


You're no good for me (do you think we'll be in love forever?)

by ElisAttack



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Allison Feels, Alpha Derek, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Beta Scott, Canonical Character Death, Dead Allison Argent, Flashbacks, M/M, Minor Scott McCall/Kira Yukimura, Moving On, Multi, Nogitsune Trauma, Past Allison Argent/Scott McCall/Stiles Stilinski, Post-Nogitsune, past polyamory
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-08
Updated: 2015-11-08
Packaged: 2018-04-30 14:04:21
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,674
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5166566
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ElisAttack/pseuds/ElisAttack
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Does it ever stop hurting?"  Stiles asks, tears running down his cheeks but Derek doesn't answer, maybe he can't, maybe he just doesn't know.</p><p>Or the one where Allison was the glue holding Scott and Stiles together.</p>
            </blockquote>





	You're no good for me (do you think we'll be in love forever?)

**Author's Note:**

> This idea has been brewing in my head since June when I first made a new doc and typed out the words Allison/Scott/Stiles + dead Allison.
> 
> I was in the middle of a paper for uni, but this wouldn't leave me alone, and now hours later the paper is still due in a week and I now have about 6k worth of the best fic I've ever written, holy shit. I hope you guys agree, enjoy :)
> 
> Title from Lana Del Rey's Diet Mountain Dew because I was listening to it and Ride on repeat while writing this. They just fit the tone of this perfectly.

***

_Stiles collapses back onto the pillows, his chest heaving.  "Holy shit."_

_Allison laughs, running her hand over the smooth line of his hipbone.  "Good?"_

_"I would wax poetry, but I'm lost for words at the moment, give me a few minutes.  Or on second thought, hours.  Yeah, it'll take me hours to get over that orgasm."_

_Scott chuckles from his other side as he reaches over Stiles' body to thread his fingers with Allison's.  "I can't believe it, a wordless Stiles."_

_"Enjoy it while it lasts."  Stiles remarks before groaning and shifting uncomfortably.  "Geez, my ass..."_

_"Want me to kiss it better?"  Scott offers with a crooked grin._

_"But you've already done just that, sweetie."  Allison says, moving to rest her head on Stiles' chest.  "It's my turn."_

_Stiles moans as Allison, still holding Scott's hand, trails down his torso, stroking his spent but interested cock.  "You two will be the death of me."_

_***_

Stiles blinks, the haze of the dream lifting as he wakes. 

He washes his face in the bathroom sink.  Glancing up, he barely recognizes the creature staring back at him in the mirror.  His eyes are sunken in, cheeks sallow.  He looks like a revenant.  A ghost of  himself.

He stares at his reflection, and for the thousandth time in two months thinks that he should be dead.

Not her.

Back to bed he goes, creeping along the corridor just in case his dad is home, Stiles doesn't want to wake him for nothing.   He already has enough on his plate. 

Stiles sits with his back resting against the headboard, watching the red glowing numbers on the clock slip forward until his alarm rings. 

The school parking lot is almost full by the time he pulls in, but he spots Scott's motorcycle in its usual spot.  Stiles makes sure to park at the other end of the lot.

The teachers drone, and his classmates twitter, gossip and chatter flying about easily, but he cannot seem to bring himself to listen in and participate.  He sits still and watches as the clock creeps by, notebook not even out on his desk.  His teachers know not to bother with him.  They all got the memo from the guidance councillor, and since he and Allison shared most of their classes, they know firsthand what Stiles is missing.

At lunch he sits out on the bleachers even though it's drizzling lightly, but he doesn't care.  Stiles hasn't felt the cold since the Nogitsune left his body.  Since Derek told Stiles about Allison's death at his hands.  Since he tried to find Scott so they could mourn together.  Since Scott flinched away at his cold touch.

Stiles didn't blame him then, and he doesn't blame him now.  He wouldn't want the hands of the man who murdered the love of his life anywhere near him, even though they were the hands of the _other_ proclaimed love of his life.

Stiles sits on the bleaches and he eats his sandwich, the wind and the rain keeping him company, while Scott sits with what remains of the pack in the cafeteria.  Kira by his side.

They're not dating, _yet_ , according to Derek, but going by Derek's expression when he speaks of Scott and Kira, it's only a matter of time.

Stiles crumples up his sandwich bag and tosses it into the garbage before making his way over to the parking lot.  He promised his dad he wouldn't skip this week but he just can't bring himself to be here right now.

He finds himself driving over to the loft.  In the two months since the Nogitsune, Stiles has been taking comfort in Derek's quiet stoicism, where before it used to frustrate him to no end.  Now, it's a relief from all the people walking around and getting on with their lives, when all he can do is feel so fucking empty.

Derek understands and he doesn't ask questions, he just opens the loft door when Stiles knocks  and makes him a cup of camomile tea before he can ask. 

Sometimes, when he holds Derek's camomile tea in hand, he feels the warmth seep through the thin porcelain into his very pores.  It's the only time he feels any modicum of comfort or warmth.

Derek curls up on the couch at Stiles' side and resumes reading the dog-eared book he was immersed in before Stiles knocked.  He breaths in the smells in the loft.  It's superimposed with Derek's woodsy scent, a pine forest, maybe a meadow grassland.  Exactly what the Preserve smells like in the middle of fall when the trees are leaking sap, filling their air with the sticky sweet scent.

Stiles closes his eyes and leans his head against the back of the couch, losing himself in memory.

***

_"I dare you to kiss Stiles."  Allison giggles, the whiskey obviously working its magic and she sways, looking like she's in danger of tipping over even though she's already sitting down._

_Scott smiles, hiding his face as he blushes to the tips of his ears.  "Ally, you promised..."_

_Stiles lies on the hard packed dirt, staring up into the night sky, marvelling at the billions of stars decorating the milky way, his lip quirks when he hears Scott's whine.  It's Friday night and they're out drinking in on the Preserve like the rebellious teenagers they are._

_After school Allison had climbed into climbed into the Jeep and pulled out two bottles of Jack:  one bottle for the werewolf, and one for the humans._

_Now they're here celebrating a victory, one big bad defeated after Derek tore out it's throat like the awesome Alpha he is._

_"You picked a dare, Scott."  Allison pouts._

_"But we haven't even told him yet."  Scott frowns._

_"Now is as good a time as any."  Allison counters, and suddenly their innocent game of truth or dare is inflected with sobriety.  Stiles is tempted to rise on his elbows, but the alcohol is making his limbs uncooperative and he just wants to lie down and listen to his two best friends in the world bicker like the married couple they are._

_Scott sighs.  "Stiles."  He says, poking his shoulder._

_Stiles hums._

_"Stiiiiles."  Scott drones,  "We have something to tell you."_

_Stiles lets his head tilt to the side, only to see Scott lying by his side, their faces only a few inches apart._

_"What?"  Stiles whispers._

_Scott cradles a hand to his jaw before leaning in and pressing his lips to Stiles.  This kiss is chaste and soft and everything Stiles could ever want.  His heart skips a beat._

_Scott pulls away, his eyes big and open.  "I heard that."  He says, hand moving down from Stiles' jaw to rest over his heart.  "It jumped."_

_Stiles licks his lip, swallowing heavily, "You kissed me, of course it did."_

_"Oh."  Scott says simply before the corners of his lips quirk and he breaks out into his trademark puppy Scott grin.  He turns to Allison, "That's good right?"_

_Allison smiles, and she's all dimples as the first bout of affectionate laughter passes her lips, "Yeah that's good, sweetie."_

_He blinks, turning to Allison, "Can you kiss me now?"  Stiles finds himself asking, shyly.  It's one thing to kiss his best friend, it's another thing to kiss his best friend's girlfriend.  That is numero uno on the things to avoid list of the bro code.  But he cannot help it, kissing Scott without kissing Allison feels wrong, like something's missing._

_Allison leans over him, her soft hair falling in a curtain around his face, "You don't even have to ask."  She says, kissing him._

_The three of them relax together underneath the stars, trading fumbling kisses back and forth.  Stiles discovers the things that make them gasp, that make them moan, and it feels like a sacrament, their fingers linked together like they never want to let go._

_***_

"Stiles."  Derek says softly, touching his shoulder.  "Are you staying for dinner?"

Stiles opens his eyes, looking over as Derek leans slightly into his space, expression soft.

"Sure.  You cooking?"

Derek nods.

"Want help?"

"I wouldn't mind it."

They make veggie lasagne and Stiles mechanically wields the knife, chopping whatever Derek puts in from of him.  He used to love cooking with Allison, she would sing along to her favourite top40 station and sometimes she would even drag Stiles along into dancing along with her terrible taste in music.   

Now he couldn't care less.  

He hasn't been able to stomach meat since the Nogitsune.  Once, Derek had made tacos and the moment the meat hit the hot pan, Stiles was in the bathroom puking up the remainders of his lunch.  Derek did not say a word, simply stroked his back until he finished heaving.  Derek never bought meat for him again.

They eat together silently.  Halfway through the meal his dad texts him to say he won't be coming home.  He says it's because a deputy called in sick, but Stiles knows he's avoiding him.  Avoiding the creature who used to be his son.  If he wasn't, his dad would have called, but then Stiles would have heard the lie in his tone.  The distance between the two of them breaks his heart, but he can't talk to his dad without lying, and that hurts even more.

Derek makes up the guest room for him after Stiles washes the dishes, and he sends a simple goodnight Stiles' way before climbing into his bed.

The moment Stiles' head touches the pillow smelling faintly of Derek's detergent, he drifts.

***

_"I'm calling bullshit."  Allison laughs, jokingly poking Stiles on the shoulder._

_"What can I say, Scotty and I were two wild children."  Stiles says while Scott nods in agreement._

_"You stole a police cruiser...  At least please tell me you didn't crash it?"_

_"Well..."  Stiles drags the word, "We were eight and I could hardly see the blackboard over Jackson's freakishly massive head, let alone the steering column."_

_"He crashed it."  Scott confirms, "His dad ripped him a new one, but thankfully we were only going like five miles an hour, the paint barely got scratched."_

_Allison's resulting laughter is like music to his ears._

***

They're relaxing on the sofa when Derek gets a call from a pack down in San Francisco.  Apparently they chased a pack of chupacabras out of the sewers after a string of animal mutilations were catching the police's attention.  But now the creatures were now heading up to Beacon Hills, after moving up to bigger, human prey.

Derek calls a pack meeting, the first since the Nogitsune.  Stiles is so tempted to flake, to get out of there before Scott shows up and casts his brown eyes upon him, eyes which used to be so full of love, but now contain nothing but loss.

But Derek needs him.  Stiles is the emissary, it's his job to know what is going on with the pack, even though he's fucking terrified to face said pack.

Isaac's the first to show up, and from his perch on the iron stairs leading up to the second floor, Stiles watches as Isaac pulls Derek into a hug, greeting his Alpha.  He looks up at Stiles and nods his head lightly.  Lydia does the same when she arrives.

Scott and Kira turn up only a few minutes later.  Kira wears a huge smile on her face, understandable, considering she's holding Scott's hand like she's won a huge prize.  So they're finally together.  Good for them.

Stiles finds himself looking away, fixating on Derek as he outlines the impeding threat, the way he stands loosely, arms folded together comfortably.  Stiles remembers a time where Derek would be stiff as a board during pack meetings, his body language unyielding as he addressed his pack.  Now, he is anything but.

As if he senses Stiles watching him, he looks up, gaze meeting his for one long second before smiling gently and looking back at the pack.  Stiles feels a similar smile stretch over his face, that is until the invisible pressure of eyes digging into his skull make him glance over at Scott.

The blank expression he finds quickly has the smile falling off his face. 

Stiles stares down at his hands and doesn't look up again until hours pass and everyone leaves.  Derek asks him if he wants to stay for dinner, but by then he's already out of the loft and down the stairs, gripping the keys to the Jeep so tight they cut into the palm of his hand.

***

_"Happy birthday, Stiles."  Allison darts in, pressing a kiss to his temple as she hands over an immaculately wrapped present._

_Stiles shakes it jokingly.  "Hmm, let me guess.  Lacy underwear?"_

_Allison smacks him on the butt.  "Just open it."  She rolls her eyes, sitting down beside Scott where he lies curled up on the bed, resting his head on folded arms as he watches Stiles struggle with the wrapping paper.  Eventually, he gives up and pulls out a pair of scissors out of the desk.  Scott chuckles and just for that Stiles throws the paper at him._

_Stiles gasps at what he finds._

_"Told you he would like it."  Allison tugs playfully at Scott's ear._

_"How?  What?  Ally..."  Stiles breaths, words trailing off.  His fingers ghost over the Polish words decorating the front cover of a book of the oral fairy tales his mom translated into English to tell him and sometimes Scott before bedtime.  She never had a physical copy, just the memories of the stories her babcia used to tell her._

_"Scott remembered some of the stories, and then after that it was just a matter of contacting a family friend in the antiques business, he put in inquiries to some hunters in Poland and the next thing I know it's showing up in the mail."_

_"I know how much they meant to you."  Scott reaches out and pulls Stiles closer by the hand until his knees touch the bed.  "How much it frustrated you that you never had a physical copy of the stories."_

_Stiles swallows and dashes back the tears threatening to leak from his eyes._

_"I love you two,"  he whispers, "you're both so good for me."_

***

The chupacabras make themselves known by leaving a mountain lion with its throat ripped out on Stiles' front porch.  Stiles calls Derek immediately and together, with the whole pack, they track them down to the Preserve.  The pack splits off into twos to cover more ground with Lydia and Isaac going north, and Kira and Scott going somewhere.

Stiles sticks close to Derek, his heart thumping nervously as he glances around at the darkened trees, his ears straining to catch even a hint of sound, anything that could give away the chupacabras' position.

Derek freezes and suddenly pushes Stiles behind him.  "They're here."  He whispers, and Stiles nods nervously.  "Stay close and don't try to be a hero."  Derek warns, his claws sliding out, eyes flashing red.

There's a low hissing coming from the deep, dark trees and many pairs of neon eyes glow as the hissing grows louder and louder.  He inadvertently takes a step back.

"Stiles."  Derek says, his voice shaking and giving away what his calm, collected stance isn't.  He's scared but he still says,  "I'll keep you safe, I promise you."

Stiles can do nothing but nod just as a flying flash of fur the size of a hyena launches itself out of the trees, right for Derek's face.  Claws slash and the chupacabra falls to the ground, rent in half.  They have only a second of respite before all hell breaks loose.

The world erupts full of snarling fur and growls, half of them from Derek, half from the creatures.  They quickly fall to Derek's claws, but as soon as one dies, another is quick to take its place.  It soon becomes too much for Derek to handle and he sends up a howl to the night sky.  Hopefully the pack will get to them in time.

Stiles jumps out of the way just before a chupacabra latches itself to his neck.  He falls amongst the mouldy leaves, scrambling away in panic, but Derek is too busy fighting off three creatures at once to help Stiles.

He shimmies away from an approaching chupacabra, hands slipping and sliding on the muddy ground.  When his back presses against a tree, he knows he's done for.  His magic hasn't worked since the Nogitsune left him and there's nothing he can do but close his eyes and await his fate.

Briefly happiness consumes him when he realizes that he will see Allison again.

But then sharp teeth pierce his neck and he screams in agony just as a roar of absolute fury and pain reverberates through the woods and the chupacabra is violently ripped from Stiles' neck and flung into the grass before a fully wolfed out Derek tears into it and rips its head clean from its shoulders.

Stiles stares, shocked, at the display of utter rage.  Derek's muzzle is coated with thick viscera as he rips the creature apart even though it is obviously already dead.  Stiles must make a sound of fear because Derek drops the mutilated corpse, whimpering at the expression he sees on Stiles' face.

The pack chooses that moment to make an appearance.  Kira takes one look at Stiles and her eyes narrow.  She turns her anger at what happened to him to the swarm of creatures, cutting and slicing with single minded focus, katana blade glinting with blood as Isaac joins in.

Stiles feels a hand touch his jaw lightly.  He blinks, finding a now human and very naked Derek kneeling in front of him, worry creasing his brow.  Fingers tilt his head to the side as they ghost over the bite mark.  It stings, but then black veins run down Derek's arm as he takes the pain.

Derek continues holding his head like he's something precious.  Thumb rubbing over his prominent cheekbones as he takes the pain until there is nothing left.

"Is he okay?"

Stiles looks up to find Scott hovering close by, his brow furrowed as he looks over Stiles.

"He'll be fine."  Derek reassures and Scott nods sharply once before joining Isaac, Lydia, and Kira as they start piling the bodies together.  They'll have to fetch the shovels from the Jeep, but come sunrise the only sign of the chupacabras' presence will be a spot of freshly turned earth and a scar on Stiles' neck, one of the many covering his body.

"Come on."  Derek pulls Stiles to his feet.  "Let's get you to the hospital."

Stiles grips Derek's wrist, shaking his head, "The loft.  I don't want my dad to know."

Derek purses his lips before conceding.  "Okay."

***

_Allison's long callused fingers card through his hair.  His head rests on her hip, Scott's hand on his stomach as they watch a horror movie, a bowl of warm popcorn between them._

_He cannot help but groan softly every time each one of those hard won calluses graze the sensitive skin of his neck.  Scott doesn't have any, his healing doesn't accord it.  Stiles loves to tease him about his baby soft hands, only for Allison to grin mischievously and say that he has not complaints when said hands are stroking his cock._

_She has an amazing way of rendering him unable to think of a comeback._

_When a character walks into the haunted house the three of them groan almost simultaneously before breaking out into a fit of giggles._

_Stiles throws popcorn at the screen, "Come on, everyone knows you're not supposed to seek out danger, it's like horror movie 101."_

_Scott laughs, "Stiles, don't tell me you're forgetting the night I was bitten?"_

_"That does not count."  Stiles pouts._

_Allison quirks her brow, "I think it does."_

_Stiles throws popcorn at her face only for Scott to grasp him around the waist and pull his shirt up.  His fingers dance over the bared skin of Stiles' torso and he can do nothing but shriek, kicking out as Scott tickles him relentlessly._

_"Uncle!"  Stiles laughs, "I call uncle."_

_Scott chuckles and blows a raspberry against Stiles' belly before removing his fingers._

_"That's not fair, guys."  Stiles says, petulantly as he pulls down his shirt._

_Allison grins like a wolf,  "All fair in popcorn and Netflix, sweetie."_

***

He wakes to a bar of sunlight falling over his eyes.  Groaning, Stiles twists on his side and his eyes flicker open, only to find Derek staring back a few inches away.

"Hey."  Stiles whispers, his voice cracking as he glances around, finding unfamiliar sheets but a familiar woodsy scent.  "Why am I in your bed?"

Derek blinks, "Deaton said I needed to keep an eye on you, just in case the bite had an adverse affect."

Stiles huffs, "You mean if I turned into a were-chupacabra?  Now, that would be something."  He waggles his eyebrows.  Derek chuckles.

"What do you want for breakfast?"  Derek asks, rising from the bed.  Stiles stretches out, casually watching the sheets slip from Derek's body.  His eyes widen as Derek strides off in nothing but tight briefs to the kitchen.  "Stiles?"  He asks, a worried hint to his tone.

Stiles snaps out of his daze, "French toast."  He says quickly, face flooding.

"Coming right up."  Derek reaches into the fridge and starts pulling out ingredients.

Stiles climbs out of the bed and does his business in the bathroom.  Washing his face, he glances up into the mirror only to startle at what he sees.  The rings around his eyes seem to be lightening and his cheeks are flushed with blood in a way they haven't been in forever. 

He looks alive, and Stiles doesn't know how he's supposed to feel about that.  

He sets the table while Derek serves them.  Stiles scratches distractedly at the bandages around his neck, when Derek notices he offers to clean the wound after they eat.

Half an hour later finds Stiles sitting on the edge of the cold porcelain tub, bare toes sunk in the plush rug Lydia donated to the den making effort a year ago.  Stiles' contribution had been a mug he picked out with Scott.  It depicts a fat calico cat with furrowed brows that remind him all too much of Derek's, with the words 'Sour Puss' written above it in bubble letters.

Derek had glared daggers at it, but it's the mug that is most often than not sitting in the dish dryer whenever Stiles comes over. 

Stiles watches as Derek digs around in the cabinet under the sink for the first-aid kit, he's thankfully put on some sweats along with a worn shirt bearing a hole under the armpit.  Stiles thinks it's adorable.

The bandage is peeled off his neck and the scabbed-over wound cleaned with a wet washcloth, Derek checks carefully for signs of infection as Stiles winces whenever he touches a sore area.  The moment Derek notices his discomfort, he beings taking Stiles' pain. 

After everything is cleaned, antibiotic cream is smeared on and the wound wrapped with a new bandage.

"Tell me if it starts hurting and I'll take your pain again."

"Thanks."  Stiles says.

Derek's lip twitches and his hand moves down to squeeze Stiles', his eyes are soft as he tilts his head to the side, like he's searching for something unknown within Stiles' expression.  "Anytime."

***

_He eats Allison out with single minded purpose while Scott fucks him from behind.  It's a hot summer's day so the air conditioning is cracked up on high.  Stiles' naked skin chills as the sweat evaporates in the ice cold air and the sound of the creaking bed fills the room._

_Scott's hands at his hips feel like two brands on his skin while Allison's cunt is like a hot vice around his two fingers as he sucks on her clit._

_"Oh fuck, Stiles..."  She gasps as Stiles curls his fingers just right.  Allison's fingers curl in his hair in return._

_"Just like that."  Scott groans, "Stiles, just like that.  Fuck, I want you to fuck her after, then I want you to fuck me."_

_Stiles bites into the skin of Allison's thigh to stop the flood of laughter threatening to flow from his mouth._

_"Dude, what do you think I am, Superman?  I can only get it up so many times."_

_"I'm. Sure. You. Can. Manage."  Scott grunts, each word followed by a particularly punishing thrust.  Stiles' head falls to his forearm, groaning in pleasure, Allison stroking his hair in comfort._

_"We can always try, you do love experiments so."  She says.  "But on the other hand, Scott's just horny because it's nearly the full moon, so don't feel pressured."  She reassures._

_When a sharp thrust to his prostate has him scrambling at the sheets, Stiles imagines he wouldn't mind trying._

_For science._

***

"How's the neck?"

Stiles startles out of his thoughts.  Looking up, he finds Scott at the bottom of the bleachers, hands shoved into the pockets of his denim jacket.  He looks awkward, like he's shifting in his skin and wants to be as far away from Stiles as possible.  Stiles can't blame him.

Stiles touches his hand to the bandage, making a noncommittal noise he shrugs, "It's healing."

"That's good."  Scott nods.

"Yeah."

The silence is awkward and it breaks Stiles' heart because it's always been Scott and Stiles, no room for awkward silences, ever since they were children and Stiles pushed Jackson off the swing set when he stole Scott's turn.

"So..."  Scott steps forward onto the bleaches like he's about to make his way up, but when Stiles flinches, he stops.

"What do you want, Scott?"  Stiles asks, tired and frustrated.

"I don't know."  He whispers, loudly enough for Stiles to hear, but obviously not meaning for it to be heard.

"Then leave."  He says, adding, "Please."

Scott stiffens, "I can't do this anymore, Stiles."   He says and Stiles shifts, warily.  "I don't need this, it's already hard enough without her."

Stiles scoffs, eyes narrowing,  "You seemed to have moved on fast enough."

Scott looks away in shame, his ears turning pink, "She would have wanted me to be happy."

"Two months, Scott.  Two fucking months, and you're already fucking someone else."

"Kira and I haven't had sex, okay?  I can't, not when you're so, so..."

"Spit it out."

"Like you wish I had died and not her."  Scott whispers.

Stiles reels back like he's been slapped, " _What_?"  He gapes.

"I love you, Stiles.  I'll always love you, but I can't _be_ with you without her.  My wolf feels incomplete, like something's missing, touching you feels _wrong_.  But if she was alive she would have helped you through my death.  You would have been together and everything would have healed because you're human and you don't know what it feels like to lose one half of your mate."

Stiles shakes his head, "No, _you_ wish I died, I could see it in your eyes, the way you looked at me like you wanted nothing more." 

Tears run from Scott's eyes, and he finally steps forward, making his way up the bleachers.  He kneels on the step in front of Stiles.  Reaching out carefully, he clasps his hands around Stiles' where they lie folded in his lap.  "How could you even think that?"

"It wasn't that difficult.  You couldn't look at me and you broke up with me over the _phone_ , Scott.  What was I supposed to think?"

"I needed time."

"You have had time.  Now what?"

Scott whines, "I can't be with you without her."

Stiles closes his eyes, "And I can't be with you without thinking about her."

"What the fuck are we going to do?" 

Stiles laughs humourlessly,  "Ignore each other like we've been doing these past few months?  Try and pretend that each moment I see you with Kira I don't end up picturing you with Allison instead."  Scott flinches when Stiles says her name.

"What about Derek?"

Stiles frowns.  "What about him?"

"Don't think that I can look at you two without my heart aching.  The way he _gazes_ at you, Stiles.  God, I wish I could still love you as much as he fucking does, always has done.  I see you two, and all I can think is that this is what I've lost, this is what I can never have again."

Stiles' mouth drops open in shock,  "Derek doesn't love me.  We're friends, but that's all.  You're mistaken."

Scott chuckles, and his voice breaks when he says, "It took Allison daring me to kiss you before you even knew of our feelings.  You're oblivious, always have been."  Scott reaches up and brushes away a tear Stiles didn't know was falling.  "It's one of the reasons why I love you so much.  That, and your unquenchable thirst for all things curly and fried."

Stiles chokes out a pained laugh, "Remember when Allison made curly zucchini fries?"

"And you ate them up like a hungry hippo?"

"I hate zucchini."

"Yeah, I remember that exact conversation when we kids, something about the mushy texture and an itchy tongue?"

"The fuzzy skin."  Stiles says just as they both burst out laughing.

Scott squeezes his hand, "I miss you, dude."

"Yeah, me too."

Stiles stares down at their entwined hands.

"We're both so fucked up."  Scott says and Stiles nods his head after a long moment.

"What are we going to do?"

Scott huffs,  "I think I need to talk to Kira.  I'm moving on too fast, I'm just not handling it all very well.  You're moving too slow, you should talk to Derek."

Stiles bites his bottom lip,  "Scotty..."

Scott raises his hand for silence,  "I'm no good for you without her, but he is.  Everyone can see it, you balance each other perfectly."

"I don't want him that way."  Stiles pleads.

Scott's expression folds in on itself and he makes a face of intense pain,  "That was a lie."

"No..."

"You can lie to yourself all you want, but this,"  Scott reaches out and taps right over Stiles' heart, "this doesn't lie."

***

_"Do you think we'll be in love forever?"  Allison asks as she lies on Stiles' stomach, her hair pillows around her like a halo and Stiles cannot help but run his fingers through the soft strands.  The sun is setting and it makes Scott's tanned skin glow gold as his fingers trace the moles littered over Stiles' bare chest._

_"I think..."  Stiles begins, choosing his words carefully,  "I think that we're in love now, and that's all that matters."_

_Scott makes a soft noise of agreement, but Allison shifts until she's leaning over Stiles on one elbow, hair falling like a curtain, eyes soft and inquisitive.  "I think I will love you two forever."_

_She pauses for a long moment.  The shadows shift on the wall as the sun creeps down to the horizon.  Eventually she continues in a whisper so soft, Stiles almost misses her next words,  "Until my dying day."_

***

"Stiles?"  Derek asks as he opens the loft door after Stiles spent the last minute banging on the metal.  Derek looks like he was interrupted right in the middle of a shower.  He still has soap suds clinging to the hair plastered over his forehead and he clutches the obscenely tiny towel around his waist as he stares at Stiles with wide eyes.  "What's wrong?"

Stiles pushes his way into the loft and Derek steps aside easily, allowing him entrance.

He walks up the massive window, only stopping until he's a foot away.  Turning to face Derek, he says,  "I talked to Scott."

"Are you okay?"  Derek questions, sliding up to him, hand reaching out to hold Stiles' elbow lightly, finger stroking the bone in comfort.

Stiles purses his lips before nodding his head,  "We're done."  He says, his voice cracking on the last word.

Derek's eyes close, "But you don't want to be?"  He asks like it's painful for him and holy shit how did Stiles not realize that Derek Hale has _feelings_ for him?

"No."  Stiles shakes his head and when Derek's eyes open, he steps forward into his space,  "We agreed it would be for the best."

"But..."  Derek furrows his brow,  "But the three of you were perfect."

"The three of us.  Not the two."

"That makes no sense.  If you love each other-"

"Derek, sometimes love isn't enough."  Stiles says.  "We've both had a huge chunk of what we are torn from us.   It cannot work without Allison."

"I'm sorry."  He says, his eyes gentle, voice soft and quiet.

He sounds so genuine, like he really is sorry that Stiles cannot be with the loves of his life.  He should be celebrating that Stiles has finally accepted that he and Scott can't be together, but instead he's sad because Stiles is sad.

Stiles' heart swells and he reaches out for Derek, grasping at his biceps.  Derek quickly gets with the program because he pulls Stiles into a warm hug.  The heat from Derek's body floods his cold bones with life, and he senses a hint of the thrumming magic he hasn't felt in so fucking long. 

He could turn his head and press his lips to Derek's right now and Stiles has no doubt in his mind that it would sear, burn him and set him alight.  But he won't.  He's not ready yet.

He wants to be ready for Derek, he wants to do this right, not like what Scott did with Kira.  Stiles wants to erase this pain in his heart, heal the hole the Nogitsune tore in him when it ripped Allison from this earth.  He wants to think back on their trimurti with nothing but fondness, not sorrow.

He wants to be whole again, both for Derek and himself.

"Derek?"  Stiles asks, and Derek pulls back to look at him with a puzzled expression.  "Can I stay for dinner?"

Derek's lips quirk in a smile.


End file.
